


If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?

by SundayMoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child, F/M, Future Fic, Kid - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Other, daughter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SundayMoon/pseuds/SundayMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2016 and Cas Dean and Sam are living in the bunker recovering from their latest stint with destiny when a girl drops into their life, literally. Sari Winchester is not amused to find herself in the past, but she's certainly not going to pass up the opportunity to meddle in her parents lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is the first fic I've written in over two years. I might be a little rusty, but here it goes...

One minute Sari Winchester was slashing her knife into a demon, and the next her cousins worried shout was cut off quickly by a whooshing sound and the sharp snap of reality as it closed around her.

Having grown up a Winchester, Sari was used to the weird and the random. Her family had made deals with demons, been to hell, purgatory and heaven, and stopped an apocalypse. And that was just the last generation, it didn’t even cover all the amazing things her grandmother Mary’s side of the family had accomplished. So, needless to say, when she was randomly pulled into a spinning ball of light, she was less concerned than most would have been. 

However, when the ball of light deposited her into a random living room, her level of concern began to rise a little. 

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Dean Winchester was having a nice day. He’d slept six hours last night, had pie for breakfast, and was now digging into a fairly routine case that looked to be a rogue vampire. To make it even better, Sam had almost regained all of his strength, and Cas was adjusting to human life surprisingly well. Although, if the clanging sounds coming from the kitchen were any indication, he hadn’t quite mastered how to make an egg for breakfast yet. 

Dean chuckled quietly to himself as he searched the FBI database for any connections between the two vamp victims. He was the happiest he’d been in a long time. He had a home, a family (albeit a weird dysfunctional one) and friends he could call if he needed help. Overall, he was quite content. 

Until a large crack in his living room wall spit out a teenage girl. Dean and girl locked eyes in shock for a split second, but the sudden appearance of Castiel in the doorway to the living room caused both of them to raise weapons. The girl raised a knife and he a gun. 

“Well, shit,” The girl spit out, raising her hands by her head and dangling the knife from one in the universal sign of surrender. Dean relaxed slightly but didn’t lower the gun. “Shit, shit, shit,” The girl muttered quietly to herself as she darted her eyes between the two men.

“Hello?” Castiel said awkwardly, ripping Dean out of his state of silent shock.

“Drop the knife!” Dean barked out. Cas looked at him in disproval, as if to say ‘can’t you see it’s just a young girl’? But it was never as simple as that, was it?

The girl bent down slowly to deposit the knife on the ground. As she did, the light shined off the knife and caused Dean to tense once more. “Is that my knife? Why do you have my knife?” His barked indignantly as his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Well it’s actually mine now, but yes, I guess once upon a time...” She trailed off with a slight eye roll to the heavens, as if they were testing her patience just a tad too much. As this exchange occurred, Cas stared nervously between the two. Dean could see the gears in his head turning, and knew the exact moment when Cas reached a conclusion. He may have not been extremely expressive, but his eyes gave him away. And they had just doubled in size.  Dean’s heart sped up. Nothing that shocked Cas was ever good. “Who are you?” Cas asked in his carefully controlled manner. The girl rolled her eyes once more. 

“I suppose it’s ok to tell you,” She muttered almost too quietly for them to hear. She took a deep breath as if to settle herself. “My name is Sari Winchester, and from the looks of things, I’ve just experienced time travel,” and the self satisfied smirk she shot Dean left him with no doubts that she was telling the truth. Because when she spoke, her eyes locked with his for the first time, and it was like looking into a mirror.


	2. Names

Sari rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that night. After she’d dropped the lovely bomb shell onto her father that she was from the future, all hell had broken loose. Uncle Sam had burst through the archway of library, having gotten lost in the expanse of the bunker then panicked when he heard raised voices that included one he didn’t recognize. Typical of Uncle Sam really. Late to the party and accompanied by a parental degree of worry. Nice to know some things never change. 

Sari tried to tune back into her dads conversation without making it obvious that she hadn’t been listening at all. The look Cas was giving her made it abundantly clear that she had failed to be inconspicuous, but her dad and uncle were too busy arguing over what to do with her to notice. It was so similar to the usual scenes when she and her cousin Mary were together that it seemed surreal. She could almost imagine she was at her uncle’s house getting yelled at for going on a hunt without parental supervision, except her dad was missing some gray and the lines around Uncle Sam’s eyes and mouth looked to be more from sickness than age.

“Are you sick Uncle Sam?” She blurted out, partly out of legitimate concern and partly to bring the attention back to herself. She was young not an idiot, she knew how to play the men in her family like a fiddle. Sari tried to look as innocently concerned as possible when her dad swept an arm violently in her direction as if to prove to his brother that they had a problem. Sam just stared at her in shock.

“Um, yeah, kind of, yeah.” Sam stuttered as her stared at her, really seeing her for the first time. “Dean, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you,” Sam breathed. Dean shot his brother a disgruntled look. Sari smirked.

“Why thank you Uncle Sammy, I see you’re as sentimental as always,” Her dad barked a laugh at that as her uncle shot him a bitch face.   
“Definitely your daughter,” Sam muttered. “What’s your name?”

Sari resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d been here a good twenty minutes and they were just now asked her that. At least they’d dropped the guns fairly quickly. Although she had to lift her shirt awkwardly high to show her anti-possession tattoo that resided on her ribs and dip her hand in borax. But she couldn’t really blame them for that. Thank Castiel she was the spitting image of her dad or else there would’ve probably been a lot more testing.

“Sari,” She answered. “Sari Winchester, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Castiel said in agreement. The brothers shot him a weird look. “Sari is short for Sariel, of course.” 

“Obviously,” Sari agreed in the same dry manner, raising her eyebrow in a silent challenge. Dean looked disturbed. 

“I named my child Sariel?” Dean asked as he twisted his face in confusion. “Dude, why?” 

“Angel of guidance” Sari and Cas said together. Sam was beginning to look delighted as he stared at the three of them. 

“Sari,” Sam asked in a delighted tone. His niece turned an equally delighted face toward him.

“Yes Uncle Sammy?” She asked in the sweetest tone she could muster. 

“Who’s your mother?” Sam asked, his giddiness even more apparent. Sari’s eyes sparked with laughter as Dean stared at Sam. 

“Is it wise to share that information?” Cas asked from his corner. 

“Oh Papa, you worry to much,” Sari answered with a delighted smirk as her uncle broke out in laughter and her father’s eyes widened.


	3. For the love of Balthazar

Dean felt like his world was caving in around him. A beautiful little girl had just shown up from the future and was apparently his daughter (which don’t get him wrong, freaked him out but in a good way) and then she drops a bombshell and calls Cas ‘Papa’. Come to think of Cas, Dean may have been having a mild panic attack but Cas hadn’t even twitched in a good thirty seconds. He looked more surprised than Dean had ever seen him. 

Sam and Sari were looking at the two of them in concern. “Um, are you guys alright?” Sari asked hesitantly, the uncertainty beginning to show on her face. “I know it’s kind of a bombshell...” She trailed off as her eyes opened in horror. “What year is this?” She blurted. 

“Twenty sixteen,” Sam answered for his brother. Sari’s face began to look scared. 

“Uncle Sammy, they’re not together yet, are they?” Sari asked. 

Sam chuckled, “No kiddo, but I think after today that may change.” Sari smiled hesitantly as Dean glared at his brother. Throughout the exchange, Cas never took his eyes off of Sari.

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Well, Papa had always said she was named after the angel of guidance because she had guided he and Dad’s relationship. She just didn’t realize how literally he meant that until now.

Uncle Sam had bolted half way across the country shortly after he told her the year, claiming he was going to go wrap up a case he and dad had been working on involving a rogue vamp. She knew full and well that he was trying to make her play matchmaker and didn’t want to be in the middle. Luckily for him, she had no qualms about meddling in her parents lives; past, present or future.

Papa hadn’t stopped staring at her, although when Dad had moved to a chair he’d moved a bit closer to Dean, which indicated to Sari that it was alright to sit down. She’d done so with a sigh and another eye roll heavenward. She just knew one of her uncles was in heaven laughing their ass off about her current predicament. Considering she and her cousin had just been dealing with a mailman turned killer that turned out to be some lowly demon barely worth their time, she was willing to bet she was here because of angel juice and not some more nefarious device. Just her luck.

“Well, good to know I survived long enough to breed,” Dean let out a nervous laugh. His hand twitched in front of him and his eyebrows pursed. “How ‘bout you tell me how you got here, so I can send you back to future me and we can forget this whole mess?” He tried his most charming smile on her. Amateur. 

“Well pops, since Mary and I-” Dean cut her off with an exclamation of “who’s Mary?”

“For the love of Balthazar will you let me talk?” She retorted. Cas seemed to jolt out of his stupor at the name of the fallen angel.

“For the name of Balthazar? What kind of messed up childhood have I given you? I named you Sariel and you pray to Balthazar of all the dicks?” Dean stopped himself there as he felt the weight of a former angels glare upon him.

“I happen to like Balthazar,” Sari retorted, “And it’s better than saying God, isn’t it?”

Dean raised one eyebrow in acknowledgment. “Besides, I switch up who’s name I invoke. Usually I use papa’s but I figured I should avoid that. He looks shocked enough. What’s the word, Papa?” Sari finished a little gentler. Castiel’s eyes seemed to bore into her as if he was studying her soul.

“You and Dean...you’re so much alike,” Cas answered. “I am analyzing to see what of myself I can find in you. Or Jimmy Novak.” 

“There won’t be anything, Cas. Two men can’t have a baby, remember?” Dean told his friend gently. “Wait, they can’t, can they?” He turned to Sari. She sighed in frustration and flashed her father glowing eyes. 

“Not technically,” She answered as her parents tensed, “But then again, angels don’t really have a gender, do they Papa,” She finished sweetly.    
His eyes held amusement that she knew only she could detect as he answered, “Not in a human sense, no.”

Her fathers mouth floundered. “Daddy dearest, you’re beginning to look a bit like a fish.”

“I’m sorry, you’re really mine and Cas’? Like we had sex? Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, as if that’s what he found most surprising about the revelation that he had a nephilim child. Cas looked a bit wounded from behind Dean, and he turned his puppy eyes on Sari over Dean’s shoulder. The puppy eyes got her every time. 

“Look dad,” She snapped, “I’m sorry you seem to be having trouble grasping this concept, so let me lay it out for you. You plus angel equals baby girl. And here I am. Get a grip, I know for a fact you’ve met time traveling relatives before.” She blew a puff of her ebony hair out of her emerald eyes and set a glare on her father that was distinctly Cas.

Dean glared back equally hard. “Fine then princess. Cas isn’t even an angel anymore. How do you explain that?” He folded his arms in front of him, satisfied that he’d stumped her. 

“I’ve got to leave some surprises for the future, don’t I?”

“Son of a bitch,” Her dad exclaimed as her Papa chuckled silently behind him. 


	4. Pie

“So how old are you kid?” Dean asked as he handed Sari a slice of pie. Same old dad, pie can bring world peace. Sari smiled fondly at her dads stuffed face as she delicately lifted the fork to her mouth. It was Dean’s turn to role his eyes at the carefully pointed way she ate. 

“Sixteen,” She answered. “And right now you would be 37, correct?” Not too long until she’s born, then. Dad was forty if she remembered correctly.

He looked mildly impressed that she’d done the math so quickly. “Obviously got your brains from your... Papa,” He finished with a slight twitch, as if he could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t know about that, you have more knowledge of lore than any other hunter I know, and I certainly don’t get my street smarts from Papa,” She could tell by the slight sheen in his eyes as he ducked his head that she’d said the right thing. It might not be the right time period, but she still knew her dad. That was comforting at least.

“Where did Papa go exactly?” Sari asked casually, mildly uncomfortable having either of her parents out of her sight while she was in the past. Not that she’d ever admit to being scared. Because she wasn’t. She just needed them together so she could play matchmaker. 

“He’s busy geeking out in the library. He says he knows the Men of Letters have something about time travel back there,” She bet they did, but she also bet nothing could reverse angel time travel except an angel. 

“I see. Well, we know I don’t get stuck here at least. There’s no sixteen year old me running around when I’m a baby,” Sari could feel a headache coming on just thinking about the scenario. Dean grunted in acknowledgment around his forkful of pie.

“So... you and Papa...You’re not together? At all?” Sari asked, biting her lip and looking extra innocent. Dean shook his head without even looking at her. Wasted effort.

“Wicked,” She muttered sarcastically as she finished the last bite of her pie. 

Dean’s eyes crinkled in disgust, “Wicked? I thought you were from the future, not the nineteen-eighties.”

Sari took as deep breath, praying to anyone that was listening to grant her patience. “History is cyclical. Things come back.” 

Dean looked surprised at that. “I think you’re spending a little too much time with Uncle Sammy.”

“Yeah, well, Mary and I are are close.” Sari replied with as much sass as she could muster. She’d prove just how much time she’d spent with her sass master of an uncle. Jerk she added mentally.

“If I ask who Mary is again will you shoot me?” He looked distinctly unthreatened. He did understand that a nephilim could beat up and angel, right?

Ah, well. No need to scare the poor guy. “Sam’s daughter. She’s a year younger than me. We hunt together.”

“Sam and I send our fifteen and sixteen year old daughter’s out to hunt? Why would we do that?” Dean gripped the side of the table so hard his knuckled turned white. Okay. Clearly young Dean was as freaked out about her hunting as old Dean was. Awesome.  “Well neither of us are exactly vulnerable, I can beat papa in a fight based on pure strength for Annael’s sake.” She said sarcastically, but continued a bit more gently when Dean’s grip on the table didn’t relax, “If it makes you feel better, we didn’t really give you much choice. Starting about three years ago we’d run off and find our own cases when you refused to take us along. You still won’t let us into any of the big stuff, but you’ll let us take care of little things from time to time. We were ganking a demon when I got pulled here.”

“A demon is little?” The level of relaxation that Dean had reached throughout her tirade immediately disappeared. “You got pulled here by demon mojo? Awesome.” Sari chose not to say anything. It was probably unwise to reveal all the angel secrets of the future. She was reasonably sure some of her uncles would mind wipe dad if she said too much, and she’d rather avoid that. She made a noncommittal noise instead.

Papa chose that moment to re-enter their lives toting several large books. She and Dean groaned. Papa set an annoyed stare on the pair that she was all too used to receiving. “I’ve pinpointed several possibilities to explain how you arrived in our time.” 

“Okay, so can you explain without reverting to Vulcan,” Sari giggled as Papa set a blank stare upon Dean. 

“I do not understand that reference,” He deadpanned. His head snapped up rather quickly when Sari broke down into laughter. His eyes distinctly softened as he watched her, and Sari would bet that she was the only one who noticed Dad’s eyes do the same as he watched Cas. She was going to be so good at this matchmaking stuff.


	5. Breakfast

Sari had been asleep for a at least half an hour, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off of her. While awake, it’d been easy to see the resemblance between himself and Sari, it was like looking into a mirror. If the mirror image was female with ebony hair, that is. However, when she slept not only did she sleep in a way that was distinctly Cas (with her lips slightly parted and her arms crossed in front of her chest, as if blocking out the bad dreams from reaching her heart), but her features softened considerably and she looked much younger than her sixteen years. He wouldn’t have hardly pegged her for fourteen. He was surprised at vulnerability she’d shown in allowing him to watch her fall asleep. It gave him a warm feeling in his chest to know he and his daughter were close enough that he asked her to stay with him until she fell asleep. She’d almost asked him for something else as well, but he could tell by the way she refused to complete the muttered “daddy don’t forget” that she didn’t quiet believe he was ready to hear everything about their relationship yet. Strangely, he was okay with that. He wanted to discover himself as a parent, not be told how he did things.

Although, it was amazing how well she seemed to know her parents, and how comfortable she was around them. He would have never felt comfortable calling his dad any of the many pet names she called him earlier that day, and although part of him already knew that was just Sari, he was happy to know that he hadn’t turned out to be the military minded man who demanded a ‘yes, sir’ that his dad had been. She’d even known him well enough to comfort him about something he didn’t realize he was insecure about. He was happy being the brawn of the operation, but having his amazing daughter call him smart touched him in a way he would never admit to.

Sari drew in a somewhat ragged breath and twitched slightly, drawing her arms closer to her chest, before falling back into a peaceful sleep. Dean tensed in preparation for... he didn’t really know what. If she’d woken up upset, what would he have done? He didn’t know the first thing about being a parent. God, if he loved her this much, having only known her for a day, he couldn’t imagine the amount of love he would feel for her once he’d cared for her her entire life. Somehow future him had managed to snag a little piece of heaven, and he’d be damned if she wasn’t returned even more perfectly safe and happy than she’d arrived.

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“Dad, what’s todays date?” Sari asked around a mouthful of cereal. Her dad had offered her his usual for breakfast, but she knew what that meant and she’d be damned if she ate pie again. Despite what Dean may think, you can only eat so much pie.

“July 16th,” Cas replied from behind her where he was attempting to boil an egg. Three failed attempts and counting. She and Dean had shot one another several looks as if to say ‘you offer to help’, but both knew Cas well enough to know that would only result in a pout.

Sari snorted lightly. “I got pushed back exactly twenty years then. Interesting.” Very interesting indeed, considering her parents anniversary was less than a month away. This definitely smelled like one of her uncles mischievous pranks. The question was, which one?

Dean noded as if to agree (she knew full well he’d barely registered the conversation around that mouthful of pie), “Wait, I’m forty when you’re born?” He exclaimed, some pie dripping out of his chipmunk cheeks. Sari crinkled her nose in disgust and Cas smiled fondly at the pair. He seemed to have given up on the egg and decided to join Sari with cereal. She saw that coming.

“Whoops. Hehe, um, yes?” Sari answered, not sounding sorry at all. She was on a timeline here. No time for subtleties.

“I’m gonna be a dad in three years,” Dean breathed, pie forgotten. Well, she’d never seen that happen before. 

Cas regarded her dad, amusement clear in his eyes. “We willl be dads, actually.” Dean flushed bright red. Sari giggled in response. There’s the Papa she knew. This reserved, new out of angel-hood Cas wasn’t quite hers, not in the same way Dean was. Dean had hardly changed in twenty years, but Cas hadn’t had the benefit of a romantic relationship to make him human yet in this time.

“Right-o, Papa,” Sari agreed with a wink. “And again a few years after that, actually,” She continued, just to see the reaction on their faces. Cas didn’t look in the least bit surprised, but Dean looked like he could enter cardiac arrest at any moment. 

“Relax, daddy. We’ve all turned out fine so far,” Sari snipped as she scraped the last bit of milk out of her bowl. This was just too fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe someone asked me for insight into Dean's head ;)


	6. Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, but it's kind of just to explain what's to come!

Sari stared at Cas’s naked chest with an uneasy eye.

“Everything ok, kiddo?” Sam asked her around the book her was reading. He’d returned last night from who knows where to re-enter the confusion that they all called life at the moment. Thank Castiel. Sari was at her wits end. Young Dad and Papa were idiots. They frequently stared at one another, blushed when the other did something for them, and had ganged up on Sari yesterday when she tried to ditch them and go explore twenty-sixteen. Basically, they acted like a couple already, just minus the extreme touching they were always doing in her time. It was annoying as hell that they were in so much denial. Well, she wasn’t going to play so nice anymore, and if she knew Uncle Sam at all, neither was he.

“Uh, yeah. I’m just not used to seeing Papa without his tattoos.” Dean’s head snapped up and his eyes widened as a slight blush appeared on the former angels face.

“Cas has tattoos?” Dean breathed, blushing slightly. The arousal was coming off of him in waves. Sari did not want to see that. Ever. 

“Uh, yeah. I probably shouldn’t tell you about them though. Papa only gets things that mean a lot to him. Although, for your own safety I’m going to mention that you don’t have the anti-possession tattoo yet. I even have that, and you won’t let me get anything else yet,” Sari finished with an adorable pout, as if asking her parents when they were younger may somehow convince them to let her get more. The looks they were shooting her contained far too many pursed lips for that plan to work. 

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Dean knew Sari had a good point about the tattoo. When she brought it up, he’d claimed he’d just forgotten about it during the excitement of the past few months. He was too busy trying to get Cas used to doing normal human things, like eating regularly, to consider making him get a tattoo. The truth was, it’s one of the first things he thought about. Who knows what would happen if a demon got inside a former angels mind? If he was being honest with himself, the reason he’d hesitated to act on that fear was because another overpowered it. What right did any human have to mar an angels skin? Cas was so pure and beautiful and untouched, it seemed almost wrong to mark him. Worst of all, marking him with an anti-possession tattoo acknowledged that he could, in fact, be possessed. Acknowledging any vulnerability in Cas shook Dean to his core. But he’d be damned if he let his anxieties get his best friend possessed.

Which is why, come tomorrow morning, he and Cas were heading across the state to see the best tattoo artist in Kansas. If they were going to mar a former angels skin, Dean was going to make sure at least the best did it.


	7. Nightmares

Sari insisted that they have a family movie night. When Dean began to protest because of the early morning he and Cas would have tomorrow, Sari turned the most horrible puppy dog eyes he had ever seen on him. Why was he cursed to be surrounded with people who had persuasive puppy dog eyes? First Sam, then Cas, and now Sari? God was laughing at him somewhere. 

So, of course, the movie night happened. It consisted of making Cas watch the two newest Star Trek films so that he could at least understand why Dean was always calling him a Vulcan. Sam had watched the first, then stated he was tired from his vampire hunt and had gone to bed. Sari had fallen asleep about half way through the second one, head pillowed in Cas’s lap, feet in Dean’s. He hadn’t even realized that he was soothingly rubbing her leg until Cas commented on how much of a natural parent he was. Color him red. Dammit, he was not blushing.

“Dean,” Cas began softly, clearly not wanting to wake their daughter. Dean turned his eyes towards Cas in a silent question. “I am quite flattered that you seem to identify me with this Spock character. Much like myself, he has one foot in humanity and the other in his own species. I admire his ability to let go of his rigidness and just...feel,” Cas was clearly attempting to do just that with his sentence. Dean’s eyes widened as Cas’ hand covered his on their daughters leg. “I am not sure how we get there, but I want to thank you. For not only helping me during my fall from grace, but for giving me a family,” Cas’ eyes shone slightly, and in that moment, Dean didn’t see a former angel, but a slightly awkward man, who despite the fact he had no idea how, was trying to burrow himself into Dean’s heart, one step at a time. 

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Unfortunately for Sari, the first hunt she and Mary had ever gone on by themselves (against their parents wishes) had included an angel that was extremely mad at her father for his time as ‘God’. Papa had found she and Mary rather quickly, but had failed to intervene in their rather simple hunt (they were just trying to get rid of a ghost) until said angel showed up. Mary had been knocked out with one sweep of it’s hand, and as thirteen year old Sari had raised her hand to block the angel blade coming towards her face, Papa had appeared in a burst of light between her and it. Thus ensued the most epic battle she had ever witnessed. Even when Uncle Sam and Dad showed up to drag them away, it was hard to take her eyes off them. As a nephilim, she didn’t see their vessels fighting, but rather their true selves. Their wings whipped around them aiding in the fight, and the halos above their heads rippled with energy. Then the most scary moment of her life to date occurred. Papa was stabbed by an angel blade. Her world halted, and she was sure that her Papa would die and it would be all her fault. Luckily for her, she had an extremely foolish dad who got in between two angels to pull it out quickly, and although the damage was severe, it did not kill him. To this day, it was Sari’s greatest fear and regret. She knew someday Dad would die, but in the moment Papa seemed just as mortal.

The frequent nightmare always left her shaken and annoyed at her own vulnerability. It didn’t help that when she woke up, she didn’t see the deep blue of her room, but rather the unfamiliar living room of the bunker. She would be hard pressed to admit it, but in that moment she didn’t feel like a nephilim sixteen year old, but rather a scared human child. And against her will, a shriek of “Papa!” escaped her mouth.

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“Papa!” Sari shrieked as she bolted into a sitting position on the couch. Dean was in the room with a gun drawn in under ten seconds, and it broke his heart a little to see the raw fear in the half awake girls eyes. Cas tripped over himself in his haste to run to the rescue, visibly frustrated that he couldn’t poof there instantly. 

If there was any doubt that Sari was half angel, it was removed by the split second it took her to jump from the couch into Cas’ arms. He tensed slightly before wrapping his arms around the girl and squeezing tight. All of this happened within a matter of seconds, and left Dean feeling worthless and confused, gun still cocked and ready to shoot. He liked to think he knew a fair bit about children, but crying girls on the other hand, not so much his cup of tea.

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Sari was not a fan of this whole her-parents-not-together-yet thing. Had she had a nightmare in her own time, her dad wouldn’t have hesitated to wrap his arms around her from behind, regardless of the fact that she was already hugging Papa. 

It amazed Sari that her Dad still so vehemently denied his romantic feelings for Cas, despite the fact that she was living proof of their love. She’d even taken to telling embarrassingly sappy stories about how much they loved one another (which was seriously disturbing) and he hardly ever even acknowledged them.

Well screw that. She was scared and she wanted her dad. He could man up and hug another man.

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To say Dean was surprised when his daughter beckoned him forward with a few twitches of her fingers behind her back was an understatement. She hadn’t even removed her face from Cas’ chest, but she’d made it abundantly clear he needed to hug her as well. Now. Well this was about to get awkward.

Dean Winchester may not be a nerd like his brother, but he wasn’t dumb. He could tell that his daughter had made it her mission to get he and Cas together while she was here. The stories she told about them were too ridiculously sappy to be true. There was no way he’d once driven across two states just to get Cas’ favorite burger to make him forgive him. No. Way.

“Papa, I miss your wing hugs,” Sari muttered in a soft way that broke his heart. But it was Cas’ eyes that made him throw caution to the wind, and hug Cas around his daughter’s body. They looked so broken. A single tear escaped their blue depths at the mention of his wings, and before he even knew what he was doing, Dean had turned his head to kiss the droplet of water away. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Dean hadn’t wanted to leave the next morning after Sari’s nightmare, and judging by the way Cas had held Sari all night and watched her sleep (although he now required sleep as well), neither did he. Dean was surprised at how human this little girl was making Cas. He’d even shed a tear. It both excited Dean and terrified him to know that Cas was now capable of that level of emotion.

Despite the fact that he was now worried about both Cas and Sari, she’d insisted that her nightmare was about Cas getting hurt, and since the anti-possession tattoo would help prevent that, it was the best thing for them to do to help her. That didn’t mean that Dean hadn’t threatened Sammy’s life if he didn’t watch over her. But since Sam and Sari had promised to stay in the bunker and research ways to send her back to her own time, it did mean that they were hopping into the Impala whether he wanted to or not. 

Dean had made an appointment with the best tattoo artist in the state for three, so that they’d have time to get there and back. Ironically, it seemed in order to protect his family now, he had to go back to where the first failure to protect them happened. The best tattoo artist in the state was at BDC Tattoo’s, which happened to be in Lawrence, Kansas. 

He failed to mention this tidbit to anyone, but rather just told Sam the drive would take about four hours, and that they’d be home by tonight. If he was lucky, Cas wouldn’t notice what the town was to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for more normal chapter sizes, and not the choppy crap I've been giving you! Disclaimer: the tattoo parlor mentioned is real, but I just found it on google. I have no claims to it, nor do I know the quality of it's tattoo's.


	8. Library

Cas flipped through the cassette tapes in the car absentmindedly. Dean cocked an eyebrow. “You know, flipping through them for the twentieth time won’t make a new one appear,” Cas shot Dean a distinctly unimpressed look. 

“I’m bored,” the angel pouted. A smile tugged at the corner of Dean’s mouth. It pleased him that Cas hadn’t lost his bluntness when he’d become human. 

“Well, we’re only half way there. So unless you’ve got the tardis hidden in here somewhere, I’m pretty sure it’s going to take at least another two hours.” Cas’ face made Dean break out into a full blown smile. No grown man should be able to pout so cutely. 

“I do not understand that reference,” Cas spit back. Dean’s eyebrows shot up. Bored apparently didn’t cover it. 

“Everything ok?” Dean asked, eyes turned towards Cas. Cas shrugged slightly. 

“It frustrates me that although I am human, I do not understand humanity,” Cas answered, staring out the window at the scenery as it flitted by in streaks of green and gold and blue. Dean knew the natural world brought him comfort. He’d watched it from the time humans were tadpole like creatures swimming in a great abyss. Nature he could handle, pop culture, apparently not.

“It’s just pop culture, buddy. No need to stress about it. Don’t worry, I’ll begin your education and make you into a real boy in no time.” Dean answered with an easy grin he knew to be infectious. Sure, enough, he got a half pleased expression that qualified as a Cas smile. 

“I still do not understand that reference,” Castiel answered. Dean shot him a look, worried he’d offended his friend. But the full blown smirk sitting on the former angels lips revealed that he’d told a joke. Interesting.

“I guess we’ll begin with Pinnochio, then,” and the pleased smile and sparkling eyes Dean received for his easy compliance were enough to bring a blush to the burly hunters face.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So this was the elusive bunker. Interesting. Uncle Sam had managed to become a full Man of Letters (only he would be able to get inducted into a secret society with no members left alive) so no one but he and her parents had been allowed in since before she could remember.

Needless to say, Sari was enjoying exploring the expansive bunker. Her parents had left it when she was just a baby, and although she’d driven by it several times to gather information, none of the adults would ever let Sari or Mary into it. Something about earning the knowledge. She saw right through that; they liked feeling needed by their ever growing children. Whatever, she’d known where the key was hidden since she was ten, no need to stress about it since Uncle Sam said when she turned eighteen could become a full fledged member of the order and see the inside. Beat that by two years. 

The library especially interested her. Although she had basically full access to all knowledge ever through her angel family, that didn’t mean that their perspectives were unbiased or complete. For instance, when she asked about the variety of monsters, she got statistics on how many kinds were extinct from two angels, the categories of their diet from another, and the complete history of their mating habits from one. That experience was especially traumatizing. The fact that there were several books on the history of monsters in the bunker that discussed things like how they’d been exterminated or the cool kinds of weapons their remains or influence could make was much more heartening. She’d much rather know those things than their mating habits. Ew.

She spent the first half of the day her parents were gone in the library, reading about these riveting topics. Throughout the entirety of her reading, Uncle Sam had found some way to be in the same room as her for about ninety percent of it. She hoped he didn’t think he was being subtle. Because that was just sad. The fifth time he asked if she’d seen his copy of “Archery through the ages”- he just knew he’d left it on that table over there- she lost it. 

“For the love of Raziel, Uncle Sam! I’m not going to have a breakdown or spontaneously combust. I’m a sixteen year old nephilim!” Sari punctuated her short rant with the slam of her book against the desk. Sam sheepishly smiled through his long bangs. 

“That obvious, huh?” He asked, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down. At least it was direct now. 

“Just a bit,” she answered sarcastically, turning her gaze back to the interesting diagram of what veins to sever to kill a vamp if you couldn’t chop the entire head off. Sam smiled and shook his head once sharply to the left. She was convinced it was a nervous tick. 

“Straight to the point them. Well, um. I was just wondering about the future. What you can tell me, that is. I don’t want to piss of any angels or fate or anyone,” Sam finally asked after a few moments of nervous twitching. Sari could feel a migraine coming on. What exactly could she tell him? She didn’t even know. 

“Uncle Sammy, I honest to Castiel have no idea what I can and can’t tell you. Why don’t you just ask what you want to. If you get mind swiped you’ll be none the wiser anyway,” She could tell it made her Uncle mildly uncomfortable that he could have his memory erased. She knew he’d had his memory of heaven erased several times in this time period already. His mind was used to the intrusion at this point.

“You’re too sarcastic for your own good kid,” Sam told her with a fond smile that revealed he didn’t mean the accusation in a malicious way.

“No such thing,” She answered easily, turning the page of her book. 

“I have a daughter?” Sam asked abruptly with awe clear in his voice. That drew a small smile out of her. Uncle Sam and Mary were about as close as she was with Dean.

Sari had two very different (though equally strong bonds) with her fathers. As a nephilim, Sari and Cas shared a sense of the divine in a way that no one else even understood. They were the first angel and child that anyone knew of who lived together like a regular family. Through Cas, Sari learned the value of love and time, because Castiel was constantly mindful that he would outlive them all.  
 Her bond with Dean was different, a bit more special in some ways. Sari was painfully aware of Dean’s penchant for trouble and the fact that, unlike Papa, he was in fact, quite mortal. Dean taught her how to be herself. She loved old records, was the brawn to Mary’s brain, wanted to be a hunter since she could walk, and was fiercely protective of her younger siblings. Basically, she and her father were inexplicably close. Which is why seeing twenty-sixteen Dean hurt her heart.   It was painfully clear that the Dean at this time was not at peace. Despite the fact that he was happy, Sari could see horrible insecurities and fears beneath the surface. Despite the fact that she was living proof he and Cas loved one another, Dean felt too unworthy or love to act on anything. Every time her uncle coughed, she could see the guilt in her fathers eyes that Sammy was sick and not him. It killed her to know that he found himself so dispensable. 

She knew differently, though. More than anyone else, possibly even Papa, she needed him. He may not know it yet, but she loved him more than anyone else in the world. And she’d be damned if she let him emotionally sabotage himself because of a few insecurities. As she began to describe Mary to her Uncle, she mentally resolved to rectify this problem before her time here was up.


	9. Inked

Dean felt mildly disappointed as he finally pulled into the parking lot of the tattoo parlor. After explaining Pinocchio (and receiving a lecture on the inaccuracy of the wooden boys transformation into flesh and blood), Dean gave as brief a synopsis as he could of the golden age of rock and roll. Cas made him proud by choosing a Guns N’ Roses tape to listen to for the rest of their ride, and Dean hadn’t laughed as much as he had in the past four hours in the past four months. Something about Sari appearing made Dean feel lighter. 

Cas sat quietly in the passenger seat, calmly taking in the neon sign of the tattoo parlor that was blinding even in the sunlight; he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that he would soon have something permanent inked onto his skin. Dean realized he probably wasn’t; very little must’ve felt permanent to someone who lived forever. Dean physically shook himself out of that line of thought by forcefully opening and slamming the drivers side door.

Cas exited the passenger side much more gracefully. 

“Ready to get tatted Cas?” Dean asked as he looked at his future husband over the top of the car, hand resting lightly on the metal, as if he meant to reach for Cas but stopped halfway there. Castiel locked eyes with Dean and nodded once, strangely somber after their car ride. 

“Up and at ‘em,” Dean said, going for lighthearted but ending up a bit apprehensive. He walked into the shop slightly in front of Cas, resisting the urge to hold the door open for him. It felt too…domestic after the week they’d had. 

“Welcome to BDC’s Tattoos, where we work to bring new life to your skin,” a bored looking receptionist said sarcastically, hardly glancing up from the magazine she was flipping through, “Do you have an appointment?”

Dean felt his steps adjust into a smoother rhythm as he sauntered up to the counter, now in his element. “We’ve got a three o’clock sweetheart,” he said smirking. The girl raised one smooth eyebrow. 

“Will you be going to the back with your boyfriend?” She asked, stressing the last word. Dean felt his face heat up. 

“Yes,” Cas answered from behind him, seemingly undisturbed by Dean’s failed attempt to flirt. 

“Please wait while I get your tattoo artist. Be ready with your design,” the receptionist stepped through the door to the left of the counter without a backward glance, letting the door swing shut behind her with a bang. 

“What crawled up her ass?” Dean grumbled, turning to Cas. The unimpressed look he received reminded Dean of the time he’d tried and failed to make Cas sleep with a stripper. 

“I believe she’s under the impression that we are a couple.”

“Oh.” Dean felt his face grow hot again, only seconds after it had cooled. Cas looked smooth as ever. Not for the first time, Dean wondered how Cas always remained so calm; the other angels they’d encountered seemed to have a temper problem. Cas curiously examined Dean’s face as it turned red, and Dean swore he saw the beginnings of a smirk take over the former angel’s face. 

Dean jumped slightly as the door into the back room opened once more and the receptionist developed a smirk that matched Cas’. Dean didn’t need a mirror to know it was painfully obvious that he was blushing. Thank some-freaking-angel that Sammy wasn’t there to see him. 

“Do you have your design?” the receptionist asked, much more cheerfully than she’d originally greeted them. The room was uncomfortably silent for a moment, while Cas waited for Dean to respond, and Dean tried to keep his mind from wandering. 

Dean finally processed the receptionists question, and pulled down the neck of his t-shirt before he could think better of it. Her smirk widened. 

“Same place too, sweetheart?” She asked Cas, not unkindly. The way she maintained eye contact with Dean’s chest made it clear that she was mocking him. 

“I believe I need a moment to decide,” Cas said, furrowing his brows slightly. 

 “Take your time. Your artist is finishing up with another client, anyway,” the receptionist, who Dean finally noticed wore a name tag reading “Alice” (figures. He felt like he was in fucking wonderland), said, returning to her magazine. 

Cas meandered to the other side of the rather large reception area, and settled on a rough looking brown couch. Dean followed, straightening his shirt. 

“Don’t want matching tattoos with me and Sammy?” Dean asked, only partially joking. He felt oddly apprehensive while waiting for the contemplative man to respond.

Cas made eye contact with Dean. “Why do some humans get tattoos, but others do not?” was all he said. 

Dean exhaled heavily through pursed lips, and tried to think patient thoughts. “I guess some people just like them and some don’t.”

“Our daughter said that mine have meaning.” Cas said plainly, not at all stumbling over the words as Dean would have. 

“Well, sometimes they do. Or a purpose, like the anti-possession tattoo,” Dean said, fingering his tattoo lightly through his shirt. “Sometimes people get the name of someone they love, or a picture that means something to them…” Dean awkwardly trailed off, wishing for a cheerful redhead who would have answered Cas’ question much more effectively than he had. 

Cas had the faraway look in his eyes that he got when thinking of something he’d seen long ago. “Humans used to get them to show allegiance or mark a claim. The world has changed much recently. I am not always familiar with new traditions.” 

Sometimes Dean felt overwhelmingly young, even though he mostly felt too old. When he knees ached and he pretended like they didn’t, or he remembered that he’d basically been a father since he was in elementary school, it was easy to identify as a grumpy old man who’d seen too much, and it was a persona he was all too comfortable adopting when his womanizing carefree attitude failed him. But with Cas, he forgot to act. Mostly he felt timeless, like being around an immortal angel somehow rubbed off on him. But sometimes, like now, Dean remembered that in the grand scheme of Cas’ life, in the scope of his memory, Dean had been around about as long as it took him to take in a breath. 

And Cas, even though he was human now, even though he could no more hear Dean’s prayers inside his head that Sammy could, seemed inconceivably old. Which brought Dean back to his original misgivings: who had the right to mar an angel, former or not?

“Where should the tattoo go?” Cas asked, undisturbed that Dean hadn’t responded to his previous statements. Those few words, said so casually, made something Dean had been fighting slip into place. This timeless, infinite creature, who’d seen species develop and grow, who’d been fighting since before the world began, wanted to know Dean’s opinion. No one had the right to mar an angel; at least not until they said so. And Cas wanted Dean to, even if he wasn’t the one who would directly hold the needle. 

When a blushing Dean and pleased looking Cas walked back into the bunker six hours later, Sari couldn’t help but smile. She knew exactly what had ended up over Cas’ heart, and it wasn’t a sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly sorry for essentially leaving this story in the dust. It's been a year and half since I updated....*wince*. I know, I'm sorry. But I rediscovered this gem today, and even though I'm not quite as into Supernatural as I was two years ago when I started this story, I feel like I owe it to you all, and myself, to finish this fic. So I'm sorry for the extremely long wait, but I'm determined to finish this dang thing this summer, long hiatus or not!


	10. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas finally take the next step in their relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist the cheesy one-liner. Sorry not sorry.

Leo Winchester leaned back in his favorite armchair and smirked. He could just make out Mary through the cracked kitchen doorway, the fiery hair that encompassed his cousin’s head a homing beacon. It was a miracle that she was ever able to be stealthy.  


A normal thirteen year old may have been worried when his cousin returned home without his older sister, sprouting nonsense about portals and routine exorcisms. But, as he’d been reminded of time and time again, he was no normal teenager. 

And, as a non-normal teenager, with his Papa’s angelic energy thrummed so powerfully it was suffocating, Leo calmly sat back and prayed. 

———————————————————————————

Sari wouldn’t say she was worried, exactly. More like healthily concerned. It had been several weeks since she showed up unannounced on her (almost) parent’s doorstep, and nearly one and a half weeks since her Papa had shown up with an anti-possession tattoo on his wiry forearm and a suspiciously blushing future partner. Yet, somehow, the two men were still acting like awkward preteens around one another. Sure, Cas was much more subtly awkward than Dean, but Sari had grown up with her Papa’s quiet emotions, and she could tell he was just as confused and apprehensive as Dean was. 

Sari had considered several techniques over the past few weeks. She’d never played matchmaker before, per-say (although apparently she’d assisted her Uncle Sam in “getting the girl” as an infant), but she had full confidence in her abilities of persuasion. You didn’t survive being the oldest girl of two men without learning a thing or two. And one thing she’d learned is that men don’t do subtlety. So she’d tried to be obvious, she’d tried to be amusingly obvious, even. Yet here she sat, staring from the kitchen table as her Dad and Papa snuck glances at one another over the kitchen counter. They were idiots. 

“Papa, how do you like your tattoo? You always said the first one was like an addiction; that you loved being flesh and blood enough to have something permanent.” That might not be the exact words he used when she was fifteen and begging for more tattoos (there was more of an emphasis on the whole “permanent” thing), but it was the gist, and the way Dean flushed and side-eyed Cas made the half-truth worth it.

“Did I?” Cas asked with the most sarcasm she’d heard from him in twenty-sixteen. There’s the Papa she knew. 

“Did he?” Dean practically squeaked. Sari’s chest warmed with pride. Who said she wasn’t clever enough to be a Slytherin? (Stupid baby brothers, that’s who).

“Mhmm. You had at least four when I was born. Maybe more. I’m not really sure about the timeline.” 

“I have been considering another,” Cas said casually, ignoring the resounding crash of Dean dropping a plate on the floor. Sam walked casually into the kitchen and grabbed a chair next to Sari; amusement already dancing in his eyes. 

“What’ve you been considering, Cas?” Sam asked as Sari inwardly cheered.  


“Papa is thinking about getting his second tattoo. I already know what it, well, they, are but Papa has to figure it out himself,” Sari said sagely, dipping her spoon into her forgotten cereal. Soggy flakes. Ew. 

“Very wise,” Cas said, still unperturbed by the conversation. 

“So what do ya’ wanna get?” 

Cas was silent for a long moment, his hands finally stilling over the dishes he was washing. “I would like wings.”

———————————————————————

Dean didn’t consider himself easily flustered; he’d been to hell, after all. Easy or no, it was becoming abundantly clear that his daughter knew how to get to him. Hopefully future-him was more practiced at resisting her, but current-Dean was beginning to think he may need to buy stock in some sort of tanning lotion to help mask all of the blushing. 

Nothing—nothing—about these past few weeks had been easy to handle. For one, Dean was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was bisexual. Yes, he’d suspected for most of his life. He’d even drunkly made out with a guy in a bar one time (and received a clumsy hand-job for his efforts), but he’d never openly contemplated having a relationship with a man. John would’ve never allowed it. Besides, it’s much easier to have a drunken one night stand with a woman than a man when you only go to straight bars with your brother. 

Then there was the small factor of finding out that he had children. As in plural offspring. Dean never expected to have a family beyond Sammy, not really. Deep down, in the recesses of the few dreams that weren’t nightmares, he’d thought about it. Everyone naturally did, at one time or another, but he’d thrown the idea out quickly. He couldn’t let himself want something he knew he’d never have. The shattered dream became even more fragmented after Emma; he had a daughter for a day, and never even figured out if she was a monster or an angel. After her, he’d locked up any hopes of a family and thrown away the key.

Distractingly, Dean wondered if Sari knew about Emma. What she thought of Emma.

Hell. She wasn’t even born yet and her opinion already mattered more than anyone else's. He was so fucked.

That train of thinking was exactly why he avoided being alone—unless alone time involved his favorite magazines—and exactly why he never should’ve left the kitchen. Hearing that Cas wanted wings, that he missed being an angel, shouldn’t have surprised Dean as much as it did. Shouldn't have made him mutter a half-assed excuse and retreat to the bunker gym. But lifting weights didn’t distract him like they did when he was younger, and his shoulders began to ache much more quickly than they used to. 

“Dean.” The man in question stilled, debating whether to turn around or not. It’s not like he could run, or avoid the inevitable conversation. 

“Hey, Cas. Finally ready to hit the gym?” Dean asked, turning around slowly. 

“Our daughter brought to my attention how my words may have sounded. I would like to explain them to you,” Cas said, stepping closer to the sweaty hunter. 

“Nothin’ to explain,” Dean said gruffly, turning back to the wall under the pretense of looking for a towel. He shouldn’t have bothered. Neither he nor Sammy were in the gym enough to leave any of their meager tower supply to rot.

“Nevertheless, it would make me happy.” Cas said, turning abruptly away and walking out of the gym, clearly expecting Dean to follow.

“Kids,” Dean muttered to himself, trailing Cas as he walked down the hall and up a flight of stairs, ending at his bedroom. Dean hadn’t stepped foot inside since he’d walked the angel to it when he first arrived. 

Dean was surprised to find that it felt…homey. Cas had a bedside lamp that cast a warm golden glow throughout the room, and a pile of books sat next to the unmade bed. It was lacking many of the personal touches a life-long human may have had, such as pictures or memorabilia, but Dean certainly wasn’t one to judge on that front. 

Cas sat on the bed but Dean remained stubbornly by the door, feeling a bit like a guilty teenager when he closed the door behind him.

“Sariel was quite upset when you left,” dagger to the heart, Cas, “and explained to me that wanting wings could be a sign that I am dissatisfied as a human.”  

“I wouldn’t blame ya’, Cas. Humans and angels are nothing alike.” Hence the problem with their relationship.

Cas seemed to mull over Dean’s words like he always did, truly considering their meaning. “That is true. I’m quite happy that it is true. Humanity is unlike anything that has come before it. I have always enjoyed watching humans experience life as they do, and experiencing emotions for myself has been amazing, if confusing.”

“Why do you want wings then?” Dean asked, trying and failing not to sound morose. 

“Wings are part of an angel. They are remarkably like a human limb. Feeling loss does not diminish my experience as a human, but is caused by and enhances it.” Cas said, lightly rubbing his hands on his thighs. Dean couldn’t help but notice that he was starting to pick up human habits. Cas’ shoulders unconsciously rolled, as if feeling the difference in weight without a pair of wings. Dean’s guilt complex reared it’s ugly head at the sight. He moved to sit beside Cas before he’d even processed what was happening. 

Up close, Dean was startled to find that Cas didn’t have any stubble growing along his chin and upper lip; since becoming human he’d had a permanently bedraggled look to him that spoke to his inner turmoil. But his upper lip was smooth—the pink bow dipping clearly and seamlessly into the lower lid. Dean was also startled to find that Cas’ breath smelled strongly of mint. For a man who’d initially tried to eat toothpaste instead of brush with it, he’d apparently mastered the art. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, studiously watching Dean’s warming face. 

“Yeah, Cas?”   

“May I try something?” Dean nodded and resisted to urge to balk when Cas leaned towards him. He had a moment to wonder why he’d agreed so quickly while sitting so close to Cas before nothing at all was going through his mind. If someone had kicked down the door and demanded he sing the alphabet to save a life, Dean couldn’t have remembered anything beyond ‘ABC’. 

Cas’ lips were warm, eclipsing all senses except touch, and immediately enticing a tingle that wouldn’t fade for hours. Cas’ lips parted and he leaned back slightly, but Dean’s hand reached up to keep him in place, his fingers finger’s finding purchase in the angel’s hair. Cas melted into Dean’s palm, and it was only then that Dean realized how tense the angel had been. That tiny break in magic, that small shift, caused all of Dean’s senses to come crashing back. Suddenly, he didn’t just feel the slightly-chapped lips against his, he tasted that strong mint he’d smelled what felt like hours ago; he could hear Cas taking ragged breaths against his lips, and relished in the hot puffs of air between kisses. 

Finally, what felt simultaneously like eons and seconds after they’d begun, the men parted. Dean’s eyes squeezed more tightly shut as his hand disentangled from Cas’ hair and trailed down his slightly bent arm. 

“I learned that from the pizza man.” Dean couldn’t help but open his eyes at that and laugh unabashedly, open mouthed with his head thrown back. Cas’ eyes crinkled at the corners and he smiled one of his rare, teeth-baring grins. 

“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Cas asked, for once the one to blush. Dean was heartened to know he even could blush with how unperturbed he always seemed. 

“Well, Cas, I didn’t know you were that kind of fella.” Dean teased, lightly shoving Cas so that he was on the side of the bed against the wall. 

“It’s true I have never been promiscuous,” Dean snorted, settling back against the pillows, “but humans connect in a way that has always fascinated me. I believe you call it cuddling.”

“I might need a dozen roses and a bottle of tequila for that.” Dean muttered, but the smile etched onto his cheeks betrayed him. 

“Angels have a type of physical affection, but it involves wings. I would like to learn how humans touch,” Cas said, still sitting up. Dean winched slightly and snapped his eyes to the ebony haired man beside him. 

“Come here, angel. I’ll be your wings.”


	11. Trickster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry--it's a short one!

Sari probably should’ve felt guilty about the way she was currently creeping down the hall to her Papa’s room. Maybe uncomfortable, even. Normal teenagers didn’t hope their parents were having sex. She knew this; she acknowledged this. That was close enough to a healthy response for a Winchester, thank you very much.

———————————————————————

Dean opened his eyes and resisted the urge to smile like a loon. He wasn’t very successful. Who would be, when they had an angel sleeping on their chest? Dean lightly threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of Cas’ skull while he slept on. Dean couldn’t quite believe how sappy he was being; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent the night with someone. Usually he snuck out before the sun had even begun to peak out.

Dean twirled a particularly errant piece of hair around his finger as Cas’ let out a heavy breath.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean breathed, afraid to speak too loudly. Something felt sacred, unbreakable, in that moment.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said, honoring the quite tone Dean set, but not sounding the least bit like he’d just woken up. Some things about the man remained superhuman. Including his unperturbed nature, apparently. Cas shyly craned his neck up for a kiss, morning breath and all.

Dean’s eyes slipped shut, his arm tightening around the angel’s back. Cas’ lips were slightly more rough than the night before, but all that did for Dean was irritate the slight morning wood he’d woken up with. Which was further irritated by Cas breaking their kiss and moving to rest his chapped lips on Dean’s neck. His very sensitive neck.

“Cas,” Dean said raggedly, unconsciously bucking up. He felt like a teenager.

Dean felt the lips on his neck form a half-moon shape.“Yes, Dean?” That little shit.

“Might want to press pause, angel, unless you want to play with my remote.” Cas smiled wider and pressed his pelvis down lightly, spreading his lips into an open mouthed kiss against Dean’s neck.

“Did you know some say freckles are angel kisses?” Cas asked, lips tracing the words onto Dean’s skin so lightly Dean’s bones tingled.

“Fuck.” Dean’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to decide if he was upset or happy about the smattering of freckles across his face and neck. Cas’ lips twitched.

The floorboards in the hallway creaked as Dean’s eyes snapped open. “Shit.” Cas laughed and finally dislodged himself from Dean’s embrace, rolling slightly to the side until only their arms were lightly brushing. Dean willed his boner to go away.

“Come in, Sari,” Cas said at his normal volume, knowing his daughter would hear. The door slowly creaked open as a sheepish ebony head peered inside the bedroom.

“Soooo,” Sari awkwardly started, walking into the room and swinging her arms slightly, “making me any siblings yet?”

“Just come here,” Dean said gruffly, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. As his daughter happily hopped up between her fathers and cuddled close to Cas, Dean wondered when the hell he’d become so domestic.

————————————————————————

Leo Winchester sang 'this is the song that never ends' as loudly as he could inside his mind, occasionally taking a break to direct his annoyance to a new angel. “ _Gabriel, hear my prayer,_ ” He thought, happily restarting his a cappella version of the annoying tune.

“For fucks sate, mate.” Uncle number one had arrived.

“Balthazar, step into my office,” Leo said, grandly sweeping his left arm to include the entire living room, “Where’s Gabriel?”

“You make me want to smite myself and all you have to say is: “where’s the most annoying archangel?” Balthazar growled, dropping into the armchair across from Leo’s.

Leo raised one eyebrow, “To be fair, I called him by his name.”

“I don’t keep tabs on my brothers. Especially not the annoying ones.”

“You do keep on tabs on your brothers. Especially your favorite ones. Like my dear Papa, for instance,” Balthazar’s eyes glowed brightly in annoyance and Leo flashed his own blue ones back. “In fact, you’ve been keeping tabs on your favorite baby brother for quite some time, now. So long that you might be mixing generations to help move things along for him. Sound familiar?” 

There was a loud crack that made Balthazar roll his eyes and Leo lift his other eyebrow. “The trickster has arrived!” Gabriel cried, sitting down in Balthazar’s lap. Balthazar shoved him to the floor, where his pout made him look ten years old rather than ten millennia.

“Late as usual, Uncle Gabe.”

“Fashionably late,” the archangel stressed.

“Can we get to the point?” Balthazar asked, pulling a cigar out of thin air, “I was with a pair of sexy Russian twins before your bloody song killed my mood.”

“The point,” Leo said with a menacing grin, “is someone zapped my sister. Someone distinctly undemonic. Time travel, too, if I’m not mistaken, which I rarely am.”

“Is that all?” Gabe asked, “Guilty. Next.” The archangel shook his hair out of his eyes and proceeded to tie his brothers shoes together. Balthazar just let it happen.

Leo gave up trying to be intimidating and just looked annoyed instead. “You planning to bring her back anytime soon?”

“She’ll be back in a zap, after she returns your father’s grace.”

Leo felt one of his eyelids twitch.


	12. Grace

“So in twenty years, I just want you to remember this conversation; remember the hand your oldest had in bringing you happiness.” Sari said, batting her eyelashes as Dean taught Cas the fine art of pancake making. Sam snorted from beside her and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“You can get another tattoo when you turn eighteen,” Cas said, not glancing away from Dean’s hands as they stirred the pancake batter. Sari resisted the urge to gag and pouted.

“It’s not like I couldn’t get one on my own,” She muttered.

“That I’ll remember,” Dean said, holding his spoon in the air for emphasis and accidentally flinging pancake batter into Cas’ hair. The angel blinked twice rapidly but gave no other sign that he was bothered. Sari decided to let her dad figure out what that meant on his own.

“Save the food play for when your daughter and brother aren’t present,” Sam teased, not looking up from his book. Cas’ eyebrows creased in confusion while Dean tried to pretend he hadn’t heard a thing.

“I do not understand,” Cas said. Sari couldn’t help but giggle at her confused father, pancake batter drying in his hair.

“I love you, Papa,” she said casually, making it clear she said those words often.

Cas’ eyes widened as Dean stared at her. Sari didn’t notice the contemplative expression Cas’ wore, and didn’t seem bothered by the lengthy amount of time it took him to reply, “I love you, too.”

Sari’s eyes flashed white. “Uh oh. Dad, shut your eyes!” She yelled, knocking her Uncle Sam onto the floor, and slamming her hand over his eyes just in time for the kitchen to be filled with bright light. Sari hoped her mortal father had shut his eyes quickly enough to still have a functioning pair. Sari rolled off her dazed uncle and faced her angelic father.

Although still contained within his human body as far as Sam and Dean were concerned, Sari could see her true father. Cas hovered around his human vessel, not quite corporeal; his obsidian wings were spread out fully, reaching through the walls of the kitchen as if they weren’t there. Sari knew that he wasn’t near his full size, but seeing her father in his true form was always magnificent.

“Tetelestai.” _It is finished_.

Sari knew only she heard Cas’ words. To Dean and Sam, Cas’ simply sounded as he had many years ago when Dean was pulled from the underworld; like hell itself had followed Dean home. Dean groaned loudly at the words.

“Papa, you’re hurting Daddy,” Sari said quietly, stepping closer to Cas, “Come back to your body.”

Cas zapped back into Jimmy Novak’s shell with a crack, looking just as he had minutes before save one detail: a pair of wings.

——————————————————————

Dean cursed quietly to himself as he waited for the ringing in his ears to stop, head against the cool kitchen tile. He felt the soft rush of air that came from someone sitting beside him. Cas hesitated before placing his fingers lightly on Dean’s skull and healing the ruptured ear drums, overwhelmed that he was once again able to.

“I am sorry, Dean. I have always hoped you could withstand my true form, but it hurts you,” Cas said sadly, fingers sliding to lightly touch Dean’s temple as he shifted.

“Don’t be, Cas. You believe in me,” Dean reached for Cas’ hand and squeezed.

“Aww, how sweet. Could you share some of that angel mojo, now?” Sam spoke up, sarcasm and pain intermingling in his tone. It wasn’t until Cas moved towards his brother that Dean realized the extra appendages attached to his parter.

“I’m attracted to a bird,” Dean groaned, slamming his head against the floor. Sari rolled her eyes and plopped down next to him.

“You had sex with that bird,” She supplied helpfully.

“You did always love the chicks,” Sam said, clapping Cas on the shoulder.

Cas’ feathers ruffled, “I am an angel of the lord, not a bird.”

“Yeah, how exactly is that, Cas’?” Dean asked, “One minute you’re Clark Kent and the next you’re Superman. What gives?”

“We’re really not sure,” Sari said, answering for her father, “All the uncles have been arguing about it for years. It’s something to do with the ‘grace of an angel in love with a human’. I guess maybe that’s me.”  

“You’re not an angel; you’re an abomination,” Cas said, ignoring Dean’s affronted grunt.

Sari patted Dean on the head, “Relax, Daddy. Technically he’s right. I am half angel though, which is sometimes good enough, and I’m not in love with you, per say, but I do love you. I must have triggered something. You’re welcome, again.”

“So you brought back an angel’s grace?” Sam asked his niece.

“You bet your ass I did. That’s the power of an abomination.”

———————————————————————————

Sari sat calmly grooming her papa’s wings while her dad and uncle bickered in the next room about the feasibility of Sari’s theory. Cas reached down and lightly ran his hand over the leg resting by his hip. “I am sorry for calling you an abomination. You are a gift and should be treated as one.” Cas sounded truly ashamed, and Sari was kind enough not to tease him. Her papa, though? Oh, he’d be reminded of this moment next time she wanted something.

“It’s okay, Papa. I know what you meant; I’m not mad.” Cas still seemed downtrodden, so Sari sent him a quick prayer as well to cheer him up: _Castiel, I pray that you smite my father and uncle so they stop acting like children._ Castiel laughed quietly.

“I will not smite them. At least not today.” Castiel turned to the side so that he could see Sariel and she could still play with his wings. “I have to send you back to your own time now.” Sari curled her mouth to the side and stilled her hands.

“Nephilium don’t have wings, you know.”  

“I do,” Cas calmly answered, not at all surprised by the abrupt topic change. “And you’re not your human vessel. Not really. Jimmy Novak’s DNA doesn’t live in me.” Sari lightly brushed through Cas’ feathers as she spoke. “These though; these are in me. They’re the exact color of my hair, down to the single blueish feather. I have a patch of hair that’s not a natural human color.” Cas turned to fully face his daughter.

“I get to go back to you and Daddy, Uncle Sam and Mary and Leo.” Cas ignored the fact that he’d learned another of his children’s names. “I get to go back between one second and the next. You though; you won’t see me for twenty years. Not the me I am now.” Cas’ eyes were surprisingly shiny, and Sari wondered how her Papa seemed more human with his grace.

“But you will see me one day. So if you and Dad are ready to send me home, I’m ready to go.”


	13. Home at Last

Sari tried not to cry when Cas’ sent her home, she really did. But Dean’s eyes were an even more vibrant green than usual when swimming with tears, and Uncle Sam hadn’t bothered to try and hide the fact that he was crying. 

So, Sari Winchester arrived in her own living room in twenty-thirty-six with still drying tear tracks on her cheeks, only to find her brother and two of her uncles bickering. 

“See!” Gabriel exclaimed, not even bothering to look up from where he was painting a mural on the carpet (dad was going to freak), “She’s fine!”

Leo jumped up from his armchair and moved towards his sister, trying to act casual. Sari decided to spare him the embarrassment of initiating a hug and crushed him into her collarbone. 

“I missed you!” Sari cried, subtly wiping her cheeks over Leo’s shoulder. He allowed the hug to go on much longer than he normally did. 

“The wanker missed you too,” Balthazar said helpfully. Leo decided to pull away at that. He grumbled something intelligible and shrugged. 

“How long have I been gone?” Sari asked. 

“Only twelve hours here,” Gabriel answered, “I tried to get it down to a few minutes, but I’m just not as accurate as I used to be.”

“You set yourself up for that,” Balthazar grumbled, not rising to the bait. 

“Yet no one took the opportunity,” Gabriel bemoaned, adding a lime-green color to his…bird painting?

“But it’s been a month sin-“

“Sari!” Mary shrieked from down the hall, spotting her cousin through one of the living room archways. 

Dean burst into the room holding a knife less than thirty seconds later, a stressed Cas’ following. Four year old Karael scrunched her face up from Cas’ arms, and clearly debated vocally protesting the rough movement she was subjected to. 

“Kara!” Sari said happily, averting disaster, “I missed you so much!” Kara smiled proudly as if to say, ‘who wouldn’t’, and reached for her big sister. Sari calmly took her while her parents and cousin floundered for something to say. Leo snatched the cigar from his uncle and tried a puff; Sari was home. Work’s done, as far as he was concerned. 

“So, Papa, important question: when did you get your wing tattoos again?” Sari barely got out her sentence before being crushed in-between her fathers for a group hug. If she shifted her gaze slightly up, she could see Dean’s lips casually resting in Cas’ hair as they cuddled her. Sari had never been so happy. 

Finally, Cas pulled away and took Kara from Sari, his eyes even more hooded than usual as he smiled from ear to ear. Kara busied herself with the necklace Cas wore, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. 

“Twenty-sixteen didn’t really pan out,” Sari finally said nervously, still squished to her father’s chest, “It was cool though. The tech was really different…”

“What do you mean, twenty-sixteen?” Dean asked, finally pulling away from his daughter. Sari’s forehead crumpled as she turned towards a softly whistling arch-angel. 

“What does he mean ‘what do I mean’, Uncle Gabe?” She asked, flashing her white-gold eyes at the celestial man. 

“Why do you think I know?” Gabe asked, waving his hand and vanishing his masterpiece in one smooth movement, “I’m only here because Leo called me.”

Sari lifted one eyebrow and finally made contact with her cousin as they shared an eye roll. 

“Experience,” Dean growled out. Sari finally turned to look at her dad, and was startled by the deep laugh lines around his eyes, and the wrinkles starting to creep along his jowls. For the first time, Sari truly noticed her father’s age. 

“Fine, I threw you back a few years, but I was a bit younger myself.” Gabriel finally said, smoothly standing and walking closer to the family cluster. “Twenty years ago, your Papa was still without his grace, and these two idiots were still doing the no-sex tango. So, twenty-years-ago-me took a little looks into the future and nabbed you, by darling niece, to set them straight. Or gay, if you will.”

“I know,” Sari said exasperated. 

“I didn’t,” Dean bit out, voice dropping an octave. 

“How? I lived with you in the bunker for a month.”   
“What?” Dean roared, cutting off the jealous exclamations from Mary and Leo that she’d been inside the famous bunker. 

“Dean, I can explain,” Cas finally spoke up, having dropped Kara into a bored Baltazar’s lap. (The sarcastic angel and the four year old got along surprisingly well. Everyone was mildly worried about that development.) “You and Sam asked me to take away your memories of Sari, for a time, until her journey was complete. It’s often too much for humans to know how their life will pan out; you wished to make your own choices. I did as you asked about a year after Sari left. I can bring them back, now, if you’d like.”

“You knew where our daughter was this whole time?” Dean asked, voice dangerously steady. 

“I have always done as you asked, Dean,” Cas answered, just as calmly, making his husband deflate slightly. 

“Give me the memories.”  

“As you wish.”

Sari knew angels only had to touch a human to alter their psyche. Hell, she’d seen her Uncle Gabe barely graze the arm of someone he needed information from. But Cas, he brought a month of her father’s life back in the only way that fully got his point across: with a kiss. 

The teenagers in the room all averted their eyes and grumbled as the two adults chaste brushing of lips turned into something slightly more passionate. Finally, Dean broke away. 

“I know,” Dean said, staring into Cas’ eyes. Sari didn’t even bother to wonder what he was talking about.

“Okay, then, all is hunky-dory?” Sari asked brightly, clapping her hands, “Because I’ve got some simply marvelous stories to share.”

Sari settled onto the beat-up old couch in her parent’s living room, surrounded by grinning relatives, and happily prattled on for hours about her parents and uncle, not even pausing when the latter finally came crashing in nearly an hour later, man-bun askew.


End file.
